


Nobody Wins, Are You Happy Now?

by MoonMoon2020



Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Battle and Chase, But I don’t care, Comedy, Everybody Won’t Stop Killing Each Other, Gen, Humor, I Actually Have No Idea How the Game Works, I Stole Elements From Mario Kart, Nobody Wins, Parody, Public Endangerment, Public Endangerment For the Sake of Entertainment, Rated T for language, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 04:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonMoon2020/pseuds/MoonMoon2020
Summary: Nobody’s winning the Battle and Chase and it’s starting to be a problem. Chest decides to take matters into his own hands without asking for permission. These racers have no idea what they’re in for.





	Nobody Wins, Are You Happy Now?

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by watching SMG4’s “Stupid Mario Kart” and thinking about Mega Man at the same time. Anyway, enjoy this shit storm of a racing story.

Some would argue that a racecourse was not designed to be used as a battlefield and therefore should not be used as such. Others said that they actually were designed for battle, considering the fact that you can’t have a Battle and Chase without a Battle.

Regardless of who’s side you were on regarding the argument, the Battle and Chase course looked like a war had taken place on the tracks. The racecourse was already marred with scorch marks and tire tracks, and at the moment there was nothing but silence on the track as a lone Met walked its way down the street, unaware of the tragic fate that was to befall it in three, two, one...

With a roar of his engines and a split second for the Met to show an expression of pure terror, Guts Man ran over the poor, innocent creature without a care in the world. Hot on his tail was Ice Man, his expression switching between cold set determination and panic over just how fast they were going.

“We’re going too fast!” he cried out, directing the statement towards himself.

“Stop complaining and take him down, soldier!” he yelled at himself, and with a small whimpered “okay,” the smaller robot put the pedal to the metal and found himself right next to his brother.

“Heya, Guts!”

“What!? I’m kinda busy winnin’ here!” Guts yelled back at the ice robot.

(What he said was a complete and total lie, considering how the two Light Bots were taking up the rear.)

“Take this!” Ice yelled, firing an Ice Slasher straight at Guts’s face.

Now, Ice Slasher wasn’t Guts Man’s weakness, not at all. But when you’re speeding down the road at full speed, and all of a sudden you’re blinded by a freezing chunk of ice? Things can go from “okay” to “disastrous” faster than you can say “Quick Man.”

And that’s exactly what happened when Ice’s attack hit Guts. He yelled and covered his face, losing control of his Wild Arms and zigzagging about as he panicked and struggled to regain control. Ice sped past his brother and left him behind, Guts’s screams of Ice cheating being the last thing heard from the Light Bot before his car crashed into the wall.

“That was really mean,” Ice said to himself.

“Who cares? That’s one less enemy taken care of! Now let’s go take out the rest and claim this prize!” the commander crowed.

“Okay,” Ice replied, still feeling guilty over what he did to Guts. But with him out of the race, he only had to catch up with the others and get past them, and it was easy peasy from there. He continued to push his little Cool Mobile forward, catching sight of someone up ahead.

That someone just so happened to be Roll. Ice’s expression lit up at the sight of her, and he raced to reach her side, smiling.

“Hey, Roll!”

“Hi, Ice!” Roll exclaimed, waving in greeting. “You doing alright?”

“I’m doing wonderful, how about you?”

“I’m doing pretty good!”

“Okay, see ya!”

“See you, too!” Roll exclaimed, twisting the wheel of the Pop’n Beat and heading directly towards a ramp she was certain would get her further in the race.

Speeding up her race car, Roll gripped the wheel tightly in her hands as she sped up the ramp, her little car traveling up, up, up the ramp until there was nothing beneath her but the air-

 _BAM_! Roll’s precious Pop’n Beat slammed into an invisible wall with the force of a speeding rocket, and she let out a scream of fright as she suddenly found herself falling. Her car crashed into the ground bellow, and although she herself wasn’t unharmed, Roll found herself frowning in disappointment when she realized she was now trapped in a pit.

“When did this get here?” She asked herself.

“Doctor Wily,” Rock said agitatedly, arms and legs crossed as he pouted on top of the hood of his car. Although the sight of her brother brought her comfort, the mention of Dr. Wily’s name made her frown, cross her own arms, and shake her head.

“He never learns, does he?” She asked.

“Nope,” Rock pouted. He’d been in the pit for ten minutes now, and he was really starting to regret letting Dr. Wily compete in this tournament.

Up ahead, Ice, unaware of his siblings’ predicament, kept his race car going at a pace that he was comfortable with, the commander side of him occasionally bringing on a burst of speed that matched his determination. He couldn’t see any if the racers yet, but maybe if he kept going a little more-

 _BOOM_! Appearing out of the blue, Napalm Man shot poor Ice Man out of the road.

“No hard feelings!” he yelled as he passed what was left of the Cool Mobile in his (thought to be vastly superior) Patriot Bomber. With a burst of speed, the Wily Bot zoomed forwards, leaving smoke in his wake as he sped towards the winning racers.

Up head, Quick Man, self-assured of his victory, was zooming across the road as fast as he could go, which was obviously _pretty_ _damn_ _fast_. As he raced past another corner and down the long roadway, he flashed a grin at the cameras (because he KNEW his boyfriend was watching) and put the pedal to the medal.

A few feet away, Spring Man, who had crashed his Surprise Boxer into a concrete pillar and was continually smashing his poor, undeserving vehicle into said concrete pillar, smiled and laughed with innocent glee. He was blissfully unaware of the agony his car was going through.

“Hey, Papa! Look at me, I’m driving!” he exclaimed, a big smile on his face. “I’m gonna be number one for sure!”

No he wasn’t.

As Quick sped towards the other Wily Bot, on the verge of lapping him, the pillar Spring had been crashing into for the past half hour suddenly formed cracks in its foundation and fell, right onto the road and an unsuspecting Quick. The enormous pillar was large enough to crush the Sonic Formula under its weight, promptly knocking Quick both unconscious and out of the race.

“Quick?” Spring asked, unaware of the damage he had just caused. “Quick? Why are you napping in the middle of the race?”

“MOVE IT, SPRING BOI!” Napalm yelled, firing two rockets simultaneously. One blew up both Spring and the Surprise Boxer, and the other blew away the pillar and Quick’s still-unconscious body. With a stream of fire and debris being left in his wake, Napalm sped past the remains of his brothers and kept going, his mind solely on the prize at the end of the finish line (and with Quick out of the way, his chances now soared through the roof).

For a few seconds it was just Napalm and blissful daydreams of the bragging rights he would have when he won. That was all he was allowed before he suddenly noticed Duo was driving beside him in his own vehicle, the Hard Grandeur.

“You do realize is is not nice to attack your own brothers?” he asked.

“Uh-“

Duo promptly raised his large fist and smashed it into the Patriot Bomber’s engine, causing the car to sputter and spit out smoke as it slowed down. Napalm yelled in defeat and brought his hands to his face as Duo left him behind, the otherworldly robot wondering why in the world these people couldn’t be _nice_ to each other during a competition like this.

What he unfortunately didn’t understand was that the people of Earth were a cutthroat civilization who ended lifelong friendships over a simple game of cards.

But he was about to get a solid example, as Bass was right behind him and closing in.

“LONG TIME NO SEE, BIG GUY!” Bass yelled in greeting before shooting at the Hard Grandeur’s engine, blowing the whole thing up. He laughed to himself as he drove past, the satisfaction of defeating his opponents fueling his confidence as he sped up.

His next target? His own creator. Up ahead, Dr. Wily was driving his own vehicle, the Skull Machine XX (not really clever at all, considering he names _everything_ after himself and skulls), and not really thinking about the threat of anyone _behind_ him.

“HEY, ASSHAT!”

“WHAT!?” Dr. Wily screeched, looking back at his creation.

“FUCK YOU!” Bass yelled, promptly shooting down his own creator.

“BAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS!” He heard Dr. Wily scream in rage as his race car failed him. Bass didn’t give a single shit, though; in fact, he laughed and kept on driving.

With barely anyone else remaining in the race, he was the sure winner.

Near the final turn of the course, Shadow Man finally managed to pull himself free from his own crash site, sparing a sorrowful glance at the remains of the Shinobi Master before looking over at Bass’s approaching Treble Darkstar.

“SHADOW MAN! HE TOOK DOWN MY CAR!” Dr. Wily screamed over the somehow-still functioning radio in his totaled vehicle. “MAKE HIM PAY!”

Shadow sighed in annoyance. _I_ _have_ _to_ _do_ _everything_ _around_ _here_ , he thought, pulling a bomb out of the car’s weapons compartment. He looked towards Bass’s car, took aim, and threw it as soon as he passed.

The bomb landed right in Bass’s lap.

“ _What_ _the_ -”

 _BOOM_!

The Treble Darkstar’s demise was an explosion of fiery glory, and as the race car began to smolder, it became clear that there wasn’t actually anyone else on the course.

The overheard system sparked before Plum’s voice was transmitted over the course. “And with that, folks, our race ends with another draw! We’ll be back soon to determine our next option. Stay tuned!”

“Oh come on!” Chest could be heard complaining as the cameras stopped rolling and the studio cut to commercial. “This is the seventh time we couldn’t determine a winner!”

“Sorry, Chest. Maybe next time?” Plum suggested.

Chest’s disembodied sigh went relatively ignored. “Weren’t there twelve racers?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Where’s the twelfth?”

The twelfth racer, also known as Proto Man, also known as the master of not giving a fuck, also known as the dude who crashed Shadow Man earlier for shits and giggles, was driving recklessly over the course, not even trying to make an effort to get anywhere. “HOPE RIDES ALONE!” he crowed as he passed the cameras. In the recording studio, Chest face-palmed.

“Could you people maybe _not_ kill each other over and over again?” he asked over the intercom. “We’ve been trying to give these people a good show, and endless draws are _not_ good for ratings.”

“FUCK YOUR RATINGS!” Bass yelled, still alive.

“Please mind your language, there are children watching,” Ripot said, hovering above the course.

Bass retaliated with a buster shot. Ripot barely escaped.

“Chest, we’re gonna start rolling again soon, what should we do?” Plum asked.

“Well, since these people _obviously_  love to hurt each other so much,” Chest replied, “I say we let them!”

“How do we do that?”

“By giving them a battle royale!” Chest crowed, lifting his finger into the air.

Plum looked uncertain, but she knew there was no stopping Chest when he made a decision, so she sighed and decided to go with his plan.

 

❧

 

For some reason or another, there was actually a race course designed for such a purpose (Plum wondered when “Battle” became much more important than “Chase,” considering the whole point of the Battle and Chase was to race people and not destroy everyone). The course in question was a large, square-shaped pit with four large platforms at the corners. Occasionally, a ginormous 4 Roader would make its way down the paths, reprogrammed to have the specific purpose of running someone over.

The twelve racers, all fully repaired, were all gathered in a circle at the center of the course, their cars as good as new. Rock swallowed, looking nervously at the people around him. They all looked pretty dang determined... he glanced at Proto Man, who wasn’t even paying attention and was playing with his scarf, trying to make it blow in the faint breeze.

He sighed.

Chest’s voice came over the speakers as the show started up again. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to this year’s Battle and Chase tournament! Due to the lack of a victor these past several rounds, we have decided to change up the rules a little! Plum, explain to our racers how this competition will go!”

“This round of the Battle and Chase tournament will be a battle royale, with the winner being the last person standing,” Plum explained.

Bass’s smile was _huge_. Racing was one thing, but beating everyone in a battle? That was basically what he was built for!

“You all are allowed to use whatever weapons are at your disposal to win. There are item boxes scattered throughout the course, so that you may also use those to your advantage. There will be no time limit; the battle will end with only one person standing, or if the battle ends in a draw.”

“Thank you, Plum! Now, without further ado, let’s begin! Racers, kill each other!”

“You did not just say that on live TV,” Plum muttered. Her voice went unheard.

Racers went at each other with battle cries, while others raced away screaming in terror. Within moments, the initial scuffle ended and the racers scattered, all rushing to come up with strategies.

Blues’s strategy was plain and simple: use items. Catching sight of one of the boxes, he drove over to it at breakneck speed, grabbing the box and parking for a split second so he could rip off the top.

When he looked inside, he laughed, his eyes lighting up behind his helmet visor. “Oh, these are _perfect_ ,” he muttered, looking down at the _thousands_ of pellets that he now had for ammo.

Within seconds, Blues had himself hooked up, buster arm ready to fire at will. He stood up in his seat and began firing, not even bothering to aim. He was just shooting at random, scattering pellets all over the course. He grinned the whole time, certain this would rack him up some points.

Poor Spring Man caught sight of the tsunami of pellets too late. He screamed.

“NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE,” he repeated loudly, switching gears from “drive” to “back the fuck up” as fast as he could. But it obviously wasn’t fast enough, and he was soon buried beneath the steam of lemon-shaped bullets.

Quick Man managed to escape Proto Man’s attack, catching sight of an item box of his own. Snatching it up before anyone else could, he ripped it open without even bothering to slow down.

“Aw, yeah!” he exclaimed once he looked inside. “I’ve got speed items for _days_!”

The one thing better than fast? _Faster_. And Quick now had the means to go faster than he’d ever gone in his entire _life_. Not even Dr. Wily could possibly compute the amounts of fast these speed items would give him.

Although he hated to, he stopped his car so he could quickly hook up the Sonic Formula with the awesome upgrades. He was grinning the whole time, his mind’s eye envisioning a speeding race to victory, even on a battlefield such as this.

His brothers were all going to be so jealous.

As soon as the Sonic Formula was revved and ready to go, Quick hopped back into the seat, wiggled his fingers in anticipation, and gripped the wheel tight.

Then he hit the gas.

 _WHOOOOOOOOSH_. Quick Man was fucking _gone_.

Ice Man could have sworn he saw a comet as he drove past a corner, barely escaping the crushing wheels of the large 4 Roader. When he saw an item box, the commander side of him began to yell.

“Go! Get that item box! Get it!” he yelled.

“Yes sir!” he returned, speeding towards the box. But before he could grab it-

Bass shot a blast from his buster arm, blowing poor Ice’s Cool Mobile to smithereens once again. He scoffed, grabbing the box.

“Did they really think I would need one of _these_? I’m _Bass_. I’m already good enough as is.”

“ICE MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED! ELEVEN RACERS REMAIN!” Ripot announced. Bass glared at the stupid reporter bot and threw away the item box.

“I don’t need these anyway. I have _real_ weapons.”

He then focused his gaze on an unsuspecting Duo, who looked like he was quietly planning something. He smirked, raising up his buster as a tiny voice in his head suggested maybe _not_  pissing off the potentially-incredibly powerful space elder god robot person.

He immediately told that tiny part of himself to shut the fuck up.

He fired. Duo blinked, saw the blast, yelled out, but it was too late. The Hard Grandeur went up in flames.

“DUO HAS BEEN DEFEATED! TEN RACERS REMAIN!”

“Pathetic.”

Meanwhile, Napalm Man reached a safe distance away from everyone else and opened the box Bass had thrown away. He practically choked on a scream when he saw what was inside.

“A _rocket_ _launcher_!?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as moons as he lifted the weapon out of the box. “Where do they even _get_ these?!”

(The world would never know).

Napalm didn’t really care about the reason anyway. He had a freaking _rocket_ _launcher_. He could take out the entire arena with this.

He was beaming under his face mask as he lifted that sucker up onto his shoulder and sought out an opponent.

Several feet away was Guts Man. “I AM INVINCIBLE!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, having surrounded himself with every single barricade he could find. “INVINCIBLE!”

No he wasn’t.

Napalm launched a rocket that went up and over the barricade, and right onto poor Guts. Napalm’s laugh drowned out the Light Bot’s screams, as did the announcement of Ripot.

“GUTS MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED! NINE RACERS REMAIN.”

The Wily Bot made a point of driving past his handiwork, wondering if maybe Dr. Wily would finally credit him for something other than losing to Mega Man that one time.

Suddenly, ahead of him, Roll twisted around the corner heading right for him. Her face was dead set in determination, and Napalm could have sworn that the Pop’n Beat was giving him the same glare. The two stopped feet away from each other, staring each other down.

“You think you can beat me, kid?” Napalm asked. “I’m a Wily Bot! One of Dr. Wily’s great creations! You’re just a little housekeeper robot!”

Roll’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t say a word.

“Not steppin’ down, huh? Well in that case, say hello to my little friend!” he crowed as he aimed the rocket launcher at her and fired. The rocket sped towards Roll with lightning speed, but the Light Bot didn’t waver.

Her hand shot out and plucked the rocket out of midair, never looking away from her enemy. The rocket was still moving, but her hand’s grip was iron, and she raised an eyebrow at Napalm, who’s eyes widened in panic.

He screamed, immediately realizing how screwed he was.

Roll threw the rocket back at Napalm, and he and his car went flying into the air, his screams of terror fading into the distance.

“NAPLAM MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED! EIGHT RACERS REMAIN!”

Her expression immediately reverted to normal.

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever done!” she exclaimed to herself. “That was amazing!”

 _ZOOM_. Quick Man’s Sonic Formula ran her over so fast she didn’t even have time to realize she was in danger.

“ROLL HAS BEEN DEFEATED! SEVEN RACERS REMAIN!”

Quick couldn’t even see where he was going. For the past five minutes, he’d been zooming across the course and through the sky, going so fast he was also one-hundred percent certain he’d time traveled at least twice. Suddenly, smoke spewed out of the Sonic Formula, and he realized something so awful he could barely compute it as a possibility.

Quick Man, one of the fastest robots alive, was going _too_ _fast_.

Quick’s foot slammed into the brakes, deciding that speed was a lot less important than his beloved vehicle that had been with him since day one. The car sputtered to a stop so suddenly it almost tipped itself over, the force of it sending Quick forward, his forehead slamming against the wheel so hard he knocked himself out.

“QUICK MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED! SIX RACERS REMAIN!”

Shadow Man had long ago decided that he should probably just do what he did best: attack from the shadows. Considering there weren’t actually any shadows (because it was noon), he decided on the next best thing: perching with his Shinobi Master on top of one of the corner platforms. A 4 Roader drove below him as he sought out someone else to shoot down.

He caught sight of Mega Man, and he decided to take him down now before Dr. Wily started screaming at him to do it. Careful not to give himself away or (Sunstar forbid) miss, he inched his vehicle forward, forward, forward, until he could get the right angle-

He went too forward.

He didn’t realize how close to the edge he was until he wasn’t on it anymore. The Shinobi Master tipped forward, and he cried out as he dangled dangerously over the ledge. Falling was not a good idea, especially not when a 4 Roader was making its steady way down the road.

“Oh, _shit_.”

Shadow was trying to get himself back up over the ledge when Blues passed by. “Hey, Shadow Man! Whatcha doin’?”

“Shut up and help me!” Shadow yelled, thrusting out a hand.

Blues blinked, not expecting the command to help, but he kept his grin and nodded.

“Okay.”

Shadow opened his mouth to say thank you, but instead of helping, the Red Striker slammed into the Shinobi Master, pushing it further over the edge. Shadow yelled out, looking up at Blues, who was smiling-

“Long live the king,” Blues said darkly, that _annoying_ - _ass_  smile still on his face. He shoved Shadow off the ledge.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER.”

Shadow hit the floor, and was then crushed by a 4 Roader.

“SHADOW MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED! FIVE RACERS REMAIN.”

Blues backed away from the ledge and began to laugh his ass off, mostly at himself for that clever quote and the fact that it actually worked. Shadow was totally going to get back at him somehow for this, but at the time being he really did not give a shit.

“That was the best thing I could have ever done,” he said, struggling to keep in his laughter. He was laughing so hard his core hurt. And his core almost never hurt because of some legit reason that wasn’t part of the bullshit that shaped his life.

He wasn’t paying attention.

“‘SUP, PROTO MAN!” Bass crowed, right before slamming the Treble Darkstar into the Red Striker. Blues was hit so hard he was sent careening right off the very ledge he’d thrown Shadow off of moments ago.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER.”

Blues landed right on top of the crushed remains of Shadow and his vehicle. He could hear Bass’s cackle above him and he growled, charging up his Proto Buster-

Dr. Wily blew him up before he could.

“PROTO MAN HAS BEEN DEFEATED. FOUR RACERS REMAIN.”

“Thank you, Bass!” Dr. Wily laughed. “Maybe you’re actually useful after all!”

Bass blew up Dr. Wily.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER.”

“DOCTOR WILY HAS BEEN DEFEATED. THREE RACERS REMAIN.”

“Who could have defeated Doctor Wily?” Rock asked himself as he drove around another corner, into the central passage.

“MEGA MAN!”

Rock looked over. At the other end of the passage was none other than Bass, his sworn rival, looking across at him with that same signature smirk. Rock’s expression hardened.

 _Wait_ _for_ _it_...

“COME AND FACE ME! WE’LL SEE WHO’S THE STRONGEST HERE AND NOW!”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand _there_ it is.

Of course Bass would challenge him now. Rock sighed.

No point in keeping him waiting.

Rock’s arm transformed into a buster. “YOU WON’T WIN THIS, BASS!”

“I’VE ALREADY WON, MEGA MAN!”

The two charged at each other, cars and busters and every other part of their bodies ready and aching for the fight. As the two raced to meet in the middle, their eyes met, and Rock knew, with certainty, that this battle would be difficult-

“SURPRISE, BOIS! I’M NOT DEAD YET!” Spring Man screamed, racing to the middle in what was left of his Surprise Boxer. Clenching his eyes tightly shut out of terror, the Wily Bot yanked out all the pellets he’d managed to gather and threw them all over the place, grunting as he did so.

The pellets landed right in the paths of Mega Man and Bass. The two robots screamed as their wheels got caught up in all the pellets, and within moments the two of them got so slipped up their vehicles were sent flying.

“Now that’s just unrealistic,” Chest muttered.

Spring opened his eyes and saw that he was alone. Immediately, he got excited.

“Did... did I win? Oh my goodness, I won! Yeah! Spring Man for the-“

Rock landed on top of him, the Rush Roadstar crushing the Surprise Boxer and Spring Man.

“SPRING MAN IS DOWN! TWO RACERS-“

Bass crushed Rock and Spring Man before Ripot could finish, his own car too damaged to keep functioning.

“MEGA MAN AND BASS ARE DOWN. ZERO RACERS REMAIN.”

“Another draw, ladies and gentlemen!” Plum exclaimed, her voice tense as she imagined the utter impatience of her viewers. “But not to worry, folks! We’ll have a sure winner soon enough! See you next time!”

The show cut to commercial, and Chest let out a loud groan of frustration.

“Don’t these people _want_ to win!?” he complained, glaring at the course and the remains of their racers.

“I’m certain none of it is their fault...” Plum said in an attempt to calm down Chest. But the reporter bot would not be calmed.

“We need to do something else. Something more. But what?” he asked himself.

“My ovaries...” Spring groaned.

“You don’t fucking _have_ ovaries,” Bass growled.

Chest got an idea and clapped his hands. The intercom came on again.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, since that didn’t work out as well as we’d hoped, there’s only one thing we can do.”

“Pack up and go home?” Ripot asked.

“No! We’re going to use my own battle modes!” Chest declared. His smile was wide and large and downright _evil_. He could almost send Dr. Wily running for his money with the idea he was about to implement.

“What kind of battle mode?” Plum asked.

“Oh, you’ll see, Plum... you’ll see...”

She did not like the sound of that at all.

 

❧

 

Chest had the racers repaired and taken to a different kind of race course, one that was circular with a circular pit in the middle. Inside said pit was a large pool of water. The walls of the field were uneven, giving the arena the shape of a gear. On one side of the donut-shaped field, the racers were all gathered up, ready for their next challenge.

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen!” Chest crowed over the intercom as soon as they went live again. “This time, we have an entirely new challenge for our racers: a Boss Battle mode!”

“This isn’t even Battle and Chase anymore...” Plum muttered to one of her coworkers. They nodded in wholehearted agreement.

“A boss, huh?” Napalm asked. “Wonder how that’s gonna go.”

“What kind of boss mode are we talking about, here?” Dr. Wily asked. He considered himself an expert on boss battles, considering how many robots he threw at Mega Man on a constant basis.

“Oh, it’s quite simple!” Chest replied. “Since the other modes have been too indecisive for our liking, we decided to put you all against an enemy! The rules are simple: fight and defeat the boss! The winner is the one who lands the killing blow.”

“Too easy,” Bass muttered.

“Um...” Rock uneasily raised his hand. “What exactly is the ‘boss’...?”

“I’m glad you asked, Mega Man!” Chest exclaimed. “Why, the boss is none other than one of Wily’s Skull Machines, which we stole while you were being repaired.”

“YOU _WHAT_!?” Dr. Wily screamed.

“How’d they do that?” Napalm whispered to Quick. He shrugged.

“No idea. But whoever let it happen is in _trouble_.”

Spring Man, who let it happen, made an attempt to look anywhere but at his creator.

“And, without further ado, let us introduce this boss! Plum, press the release switch, if you please!”

“Yes, sir!” Plum exclaimed, pressing said release switch. A platform opened on the other side of the arena, and a large, hulking machine appeared. It was slightly larger than Guts Man’s Wild Arms, standing atop one large, wheeled tread. In one hand was a scythe, and in the other was a chainsaw.

“Which one is that?” Roll asked.

“MY WILY MACHINE ALPHA!” Dr. Wily screamed, hands buried in his hair.

“I remember that one!” Rock exclaimed.

“So do I,” Duo said calmly.

“Here it is, ladies and gentlemen! Will our racers be able to defeat it and finally claim a victory!? Here it is, folks! The battle of the Battle and Chase! GO!”

That signaled the beginning of the battle. The Wily Machine A let out a loud metallic screech, having been reprogrammed into somewhat sentience as well as stolen by Dr. Wily.

“Oh shit,” Shadow muttered.

“RUN!” Quick Man screamed, and everyone raced away as Wily Machine A leaped over the pit to the racers’ side, crushing Guts Man into oblivion before he could get away in time. The machine moved away from the Light Bot’s body, crushing him further, and it began to move away.

“Hey!” Ice yelled.

It stopped and looked back.

“FOR THE MOTHERLANDS!” Ice Man screamed, heading full speed at the machine. He braked right in front of the machine, his face filled with determination as he locked eyes with the boss.

He hit it in the face with a snowball.

“Take that, asshole!” he crowed.

Wily Machine A impaled Ice’s head with the scythe. Somehow still functioning, his only response was a death glare.

“Well, fine, _be_ _that_ _way_!” he snapped, driving away with a hole in his head. “I’m gonna go email Freeze or something.”

“HEY, BUTTFACE!” Napalm yelled. He threw several Napalm Bombs at the machine, which, joined by Bass’s buster shots, exploded when they hit its face. It growled in anger, a compartment opening in its chest.

A homing missile as big as Napalm’s car headed right for him.

“Better run, asshole!” Bass yelled, already gone.

Napalm screamed in such a high-pitch he could have broken glass, backing away as fast as the Patriot Bomber could go. He raced behind a wall, praying the missile would explode when it tried to turn the corner.

After several seconds of silence, he became less tense and even began to relax.

Then it came around the corner.

His screams were the last thing ever heard from him.

His car was gone, but his flaming body landed right in front of Rock and Bass.

“Ha, that was the stupidest death ever!” Bass cackled.

“Bass! It wasn’t funny at all!” Rock cried out.

“Of course it was? Did you hear him? He screamed like a girl!”

Wily Machine A was moving. Roll saw him and yelled, trying to race away from it, knowing she couldn’t do anything against it. The machine was too fast, and it ran her over.

“HEY!” Dr. Wily screamed, driving straight towards it. “YOU ARE _MY_  CREATION! MINE TO USE AND CONTROL! YOU WILL OBEY ME OR BE DESTROYED!”

Wily Machine A didn’t even bother with a glance. It simply swiped Dr. Wily’s car into the pit.

“FUCK YOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU!”

A Shadow Blade impaled itself on the machine’s head. It slowly, agonizingly slowly, twisted around to give Shadow Man a look that could kill.

Shadow stared back, face blank.

“I see,” he said, perfectly calm. “Well. In that case, I’ll see myself out.”

Without another word, Shadow turned his car and drove into the pit.

“You won’t take me down that easily! Eat this!” Quick yelled, throwing as many boomerangs as he could while also driving as fast as he could go.

The machine slammed its chainsaw arm into the Sonic Formula before it could hit him, the Quick Boomerangs having done nothing at all. The speedy robot was now, once again, out cold.

“Oh no!” Spring cried. He looked around frantically, saw the boss machine heading straight towards him, and frantically pressed a button on his dashboard. The springs in the vehicle activated, and the Spring Boxer leaped into the air, flew over the Wily Machine-

It grabbed the springs, and threw a screaming Spring Man into the pit.

It looked at the four remaining racers. Rock could have sworn he saw it grin.

“What do we do!?” he cried out.

“Isn’t it obvious!? We kill that thing!” Bass yelled, thrusting a finger at the machine that was speeding towards them.

“How!? Did you see how easily it defeated the others!”

“Do not worry. I can handle this,” Duo assured them.

“The fuck you will,” Bass growled, shooting the Hard Grandeur. It went up in flames again and fell into the pit.

“ _BASS_!” Rock screamed.

“What? We didn’t need his help!”

“You guys!” Blues yelled. “I have an idea!”

“What idea?!” Bass yelled.

“You’ll see.”

Rock and Bass glanced at each other.

Blues’s idea was a terrible one.

He had their cars hooked together to form some sort of phalanx or something, and then he ordered them to hit the gas.

“LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The trio’s entrance was preceded only by Rock’s and Bass’s screams of complete and utter terror, drowned out by Blues’s cackling laughter, the volume of which rivaled the roar of the three cars’ engines as they raced towards the machine. It looked at the trio with a blank expression and glanced at one of the cameras, its entire body conveying perfectly a message of “Are you kidding me right now?”

Then it activated its shield.

The moment Blues’s car phalanx hit said shields, they exploded.

Leaving everyone dead.

 _Again_.

Chest began banging his head against the wall. Everyone in the world saw it, because that was when they cut to the studio.

“Er... we’ll be right back,” Plum said, cutting to commercial once more.

“Whyyyyyyyyyyy...” Chest cried, having stopped banging his head. He was now just leaning on the wall. “Why, why, why...? Why can’t we just have a winner?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Chest. Maybe it was a little too difficult for them,” Plum said reassuringly, glancing pointedly at where the Wily Machine A was doing a victory dance. “Maybe have them do something that’s easier.”

“That’s it!” Chest yelled, his mood immediately improved. “Plum, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“Yes! I’ll have them do a mode so easy, _we_  could do it!” Chest exclaimed.

Plum smiled. “Well, I’m happy you had it figured out.”

 

❧

 

“THIS IS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT YOU MEANT.”

“What are you talking about, Plum? Of course this is what I meant.”

“In _public_!?” Plum practically screeched.

“Yes!” Chest replied.

They were, in fact, in public. Once the racers and their cars had been repaired (again), Chest had had them gather in the outskirts of Mega City, where they were all gathered in a small town square.

“This is a terrible idea...” Rock groaned.

“What are you talking about? This isn’t any different from the other places,” Blues said.

“But the people...”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re sure to have victor now!” Chest crowed from the studio. “This is Battle and Chase: Delivery Challenge!”

“What’s that mean?” Naplam asked.

“Your challenge is quite simple and easy,” Chest exclaimed. “Ripot, if you could explain.”

“Alright, Chest.” Ripot held up a metal box. “This here box of tools is a special delivery for Doctor Light. Your goal is to be the first person to bring this box to Light Labs and deliver it to the good doctor!”

“Are you fucking kidding me!? We have to do _errands_ for _Light_!?” Dr. Wily screeched.

“Doctor Wily, please calm down,” Shadow sighed.

Dr. Wily crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

Ripot slowly placed the box on the ground and immediately darted away, as if afraid the robots would devour him. After the multiple rounds of utter murder and violence, he just might have a good reason to fear that.

“Thank you, Ripot!” Chest exclaimed happily, his eyes glinting evilly. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, let us begin this, the main and (hopefully) final event of this year’s Battle and Chase tournament!”

Everyone turned greedy, dangerous eyes on the metal box.

“Aaaaaaaaaand... BEGIN!”

Within seconds, the square was a mass of chaos as cars crashed and bumped into each other, hands clawing at the small box of tools. Humans saw the carnage and began to run away, screaming, the panic spreading when the racers began to scatter.

Ice was one of the first to break away from the carnage, the box tucked tightly into his lap-

Guts Man’s Wild Arms activated, slamming large fists into the tiny Cool Mobile. The construction bot snatched the box from Ice’s hands and drove away, yelling “No hard feelings!” behind him.

Ice pulled himself free from the wreckage and watched Guts go, clenching his fists as the commander took over once again.

No more mister nice robot, for both sides of him.

Guts raced away as fast as he could, the box tucked safely in his lap. Behind him, several racers pursued, each with varying distance.

Above him, however, was the real threat. Shadow had left the Shinobi Master in a dark alley, where he could easily return, and was now perched atop one of the three-story apartment buildings. Below him, humans raced to get out of the way of the Battle and Chasers, but his target was at the front of the line.

Clutching a Shadow Blade in both hands, Shadow aimed carefully, so that he could destroy both the Wild Arms and Guts. When he was certain of his aim, he threw the blades.

The weapons hit their mark perfectly, triggering an explosion that left both Guts and the Wild Arms smoldering in the street. Shadow was in his car and driving past in seconds, snatching the box and zooming away into the shadows.

“HE’S GOT THE BOX!” Quick yelled.

“GET HIM!” Napalm yelled.

Shadow was incredible at keeping himself hidden, considering he was a fucking ninja, and soon the racers were scattered all over the district, scrambling to find him before he could get away. Ice saw the racers and knew, deep down, that he wasn’t finished yet. The Cool Mobile may be gone, but he sure wasn’t.

He saw Napalm, saw the Patriot Bomber and all its cool weapons and gadgets, and grinned.

He had an idea.

As quick as he could, Ice got himself up onto the rooftops. The district was fast becoming their abandoned playground as word spread of the chaos, the impromptu tournament so sudden Chest hadn’t even bothered to warn anyone. He could see Napalm heading down the street, and behind him was Shadow, growing frustrated at how the other Wily Bot kept on his tail.

Two birds with one stone. Perfect.

“Prepare for ambush, soldier,” he muttered to himself.

“Yes, sir.”

He let Shadow pass by, his body tense. Napalm came closer, closer, until-

“NOW!”

Ice Man leaped from the roof and right in top of Napalm Man. Immediately, the two entered a struggle.

“What the hell!? Get off!”

“Never!” Ice screamed, his tiny body punching and kicking with everything he had.

“Napalm-“

“ICE SLASHER!” Ice managed to finish first. Ice streamed out of his mouth and straight onto Napalm, completely freezing his body. He laughed in triumph as he shoved Napalm’s body out of the Patriot Bomber, took his seat, and regained control of the vehicle before anything could crash.

“Good work, soldier!”

“Thank you, commander!”

“Now go get Shadow Man!”

“Yes sir!” Ice slammed his foot into the gas pedal, and he was off, speeding after Shadow Man. But instead of going right after him, he took a sharp turn, knowing that the street he was taking would be a shortcut so long as he hurried.

Shadow clutched the box to his chest as he drove, fingers tight on the wheel. He’d fought too hard to lose now, and he wasn’t going to let himself lose this time, his earlier suicide not withstanding.

He moved to go faster-

“HIIIII SHADOW MAN!” Ice cheered, appearing in front of him. Shadow panicked and slammed into the breaks, stopping in front of the small robot who had somehow stolen Napalm Man’s car.

“Sunstar almighty,” he muttered to himself.

“I got ya a little something!” Ice exclaimed, lifting up a lit bomb he’d gotten from Napalm’s arsenal.

“Oh shit.”

Shadow switched gears from “drive” to “back the fuck up” in record time, and the Shinobi Master began to back away at speeds rivaling-

Ice threw the bomb. Shadow screamed as the Shinobi Master went up in flames, taking him with it.

Ice laughed again as he grabbed the box and drove away. “It’s all mine now!” he cheered as he sped away from Shadow’s remains.

As he made a clear headway for the outer parts of the city, where he knew the route to Dr. Light’s house like the back of his hand, several cars saw that Ice now had the box and immediately made their pursuit.

“I DON’T THINK SO!” Bass yelled.

Quick Man slammed the Sonic Formula into the Treble Darkstar, locking eyes with Bass as they both sped after Ice Man.

“I DON’T THINK SO!”

Roll appeared from the streets, her Pop’n Beat slamming into the Sonic Formula. She smirked, her eyes sparkling.

“I DON’T THINK SO!”

“They see me rollin’, they hatin’” could be heard from her car’s radio.

“I DON’T THINK SO!” Spring exclaimed, just because everyone else had said it. Then he slammed the Surprise Boxer into the Pop’n Beat.

“Hey!” Roll yelled.

Dr. Wily drove after them, his Skull Machine XX ready to crash into the line of cars.

“I DON’T THINK-

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, WILY!” Bass screamed, shooting behind him and blowing up the Skull Machine XX.

“BAAAAAAASSSSS!”

“THIS IS WHY DAD DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU!” Quick screamed, throwing a Quick Boomerang at the SWN.

“SCREW YOU, QUICK MAN!” Bass replied, firing back.

“Uh oh!” Roll cried, seeing people ahead.

They weren’t actually people, but fuck technicalities. Ring Man was standing outside the police station, enjoying some donuts with some Fake Man units.

“LOOK OUT!” Spring Man wailed.

“OH SHIT!”

Ring and the Fake Men dove out of the way as fast as they could. Spring and Roll were careening out of control, and the former slammed into the robot police’s table, destroying it-and their donuts.

“MY DONUTS!” Ring yelled, watching several Fake Men cry over their ruined brunch.

Five seconds later, Ice heard police sirens behind him and realized the entire Robot Police Force was now pursing him and the other racers.

“Oh no!”

“This is no time to panic, soldier! We have to get this to Doctor Light!”

“Yes sir!”

Ice went full speed ahead.

But Quick Man’s full speed was better than Ice Man’s, so there. He caught up anyway. Having lost Bass, Quick’s only goal now was to get the box.

So he did the craziest thing of his life.

He used a ramp.

The ramp was there because Guts Man and Concrete Man couldn’t figure out how the fuck a traffic barricade was supposed to be set up, so now it was perfect ramp material. Thanks Guts Man.

Quick Man used that ramp. He flew into the air, above Ice...

And landed on top of him.

Somehow, the two vehicles kept going, the police right behind them. Ice screamed when he saw Quick Man groping for the box, refusing to let his prize go. The two robots began a tug of war over the box, neither one wanting to let go.

“Watch out for the wall!” Roll cried out in warning. Suddenly, the police cars raced past her, and she spiraled out of control and crashed into a telephone pole, leaving her poor Pop’n Beat out of the count.

Her warning didn’t matter anyway. Quick and Ice froze when they heard her warning, looked ahead-

And saw a giant wall of brick and steel that Guts didn’t fucking finish because he wouldn’t stop fucking arguing with fucking Concrete.

They screamed.

They crashed.

The explosion was magnificent, a stream of flames flying up into the sky. The robot police soon had the two of them surrounded, and they came out of their cars armed and ready.

“You two are under arrest for destroying our beloved donuts!” Ring yelled in anger.

“Sorry!” Ice cried, pulling himself free from the wreckage.

“Spring, _how_ did you get yourself caught?” Quick asked when he noticed Spring in the police car.

“I crashed.”

“Damnit, Spring.”

“Quick, you should worry more about yourself,” Ice said, his voice way too casual for the warning he was giving. “Elec is gonna _kill_ you when you get home.”

“OH FUCK YOU’RE RIGHT.”

Roll saw the carnage from where she was crashed and sighed. “Guess it’s up to Rock now, huh?” she said, glancing pointedly at Blues.

Blues was driving down the street like a crazy person, going back and forth as he loudly and obnoxiously sang some tune he obviously made up.

“THEY LOST ME, FORGOT ME, MADE YOU FROM PARTS OF ME! IF YOU’RE THE ONE, MY FATHER’S SON, THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE!?”

“Dramatic, apparently,” Roll retorted.

Bass cackled as he drove away from the carnage, away from the city, and into the trees, having managed to snag the box from Ice and Quick when no one was looking.

“I’M NUMBER ONE!” he screamed to the sky. “NOT MEGA MAN, ME! I AM THE GREATEST ROBOT TO EVER LIVE!”

Duo suddenly landed right in front of him, the ground shaking from his landing. Bass’s eyes widened at the sight of the massive robot looming over him, his Treble Darkstar braking abruptly to prevent any damage.

The look in Duo’s eyes could kill a thousand humans. Bass swallowed. Suddenly he was very, very concerned.

“Uh... hi?”

“Bass. It is about time you learned to be fair.”

“The hell’s that supposed to me-“

Duo slammed his fist into the Treble Darkstar, tipping it so hard Bass (and the box) was sent flying into the air, screaming loudly as he vanished.

Rock hadn’t even bothered with the race. He’d gone straight home, panicking over what might happen once the others arrived. He parked the Rush Roadstar outside the house and leaped out, racing to the door.

He swung it open and raced inside.

“Doctor Light! It’s an emergency!”

“What is it, Rock? Is the tournament over?”

“No, it’s not. Doctor, they’re coming!” Rock replied, pointing outside.

“What does that mean?”

 _CRASH_! (Man)

Bass’s unconscious body, as well as the tool box, crashed into the living room in a rain of glass, slamming into Rock so hard he was knocked unconscious. Dr. Light stared at the sudden mess in the living room, holding a cup of coffee, wondering what in the fresh fuck just happened.

Outside, Chest’s eyes were wide as he grabbed the mic and began an announcement.

“O...Oh my goodness! I... I think we have a winner! Yes! It was close, but we have a winner!”

“Who’s the winner, Chest!?” Plum exclaimed.

“The winner is...”

Drumroll.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

“ME! BECAUSE YOU ALL ARE TERRIBLE RACERS!” Chest yelled.

“W-Wha?” Plum asked. Poor Ripot looked downright lost.

“That’s right! Forget all of y’all!” Chest yelled, making his way out of the studio. “Nobody wins! I’m the only winner here, so there! You have your winner, so now we can all go home!”

He swung the door to the studio open.

Blues ran him over.

“Fuck you!” he yelled with a grin on his face.

“W-What? How did you get in here! Why are you in here!? How’d you get your _car_ in here!?” Plum demanded.

Blues turned and looked directly at the camera.

“Hope rides alone, fuckers.”

The camera cut to static.


End file.
